


Tarnished by hate

by roo1965



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Gen Work, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Shock, inertia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roo1965/pseuds/roo1965
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>my version of what happened after Chris was shot and after reading That Letter….</p><p>Chris needs saving from his inertia. Maybe the guys can help? Did I mention there was angst? Chris and Vin POV's. <br/>Obssession season 2<br/>written 31 July 2007</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tarnished by hate

Chris Larabee attended this particular anniversary in the only way he knew how. He’d drowned in Red Eye and lost himself in the delectable charms of Maria’s sensuous arms in Purgatorio. And this was in spite of the mellowing and friendship he had grown into with Buck and the others. One day he promised himself it would not be like this, but not this year.

Then Ella Gaines had appeared out of the blue and sucked him dry, leaching his very marrow and left him bleeding in the dirt. She hadn’t stopped at Sarah and Adam’s murders, she would remove him from Buck and the others too - and she had almost succeeded. Worst of all he’d almost ruined his sense of honour and trust in Vin because the tracker did a little extra investigating and found out Ella was in on the scheme. Like he wouldn’t have trusted someone else’s sob story. 

No, truth was he'd been swayed by lust and old, old wild memories. And the Lord knew he should have known Ella was a loose cannon. He’d gotten away from her claws once and there had been a good reason for that at the time.

And now he sat tired and wounded, aching physically and mentally, huddled in his blankets out on the porch. All he’d worked towards over the last few years was destroyed by one evil, scheming mad woman.

Buck had warned him.

Vin had out right told him.

And he still hadn’t listened to what they were saying about the bitch. Worst of all he hadn’t listened to himself. He knew people, could read and size them up in an instant. A life saving skill. But one to which Ella seemed immune.

And what about himself? He hadn’t exactly run away from her smile and open arms had he? Back when he’d been entangled with her years ago he’d been wild and free and some of his exploits had made even Buck shake his head in wonder.

What to do now though, to heal what he’d done, what Ella had made him do? The others must think him such a stupid fool to be taken into so easily by her, and what did they think about him involving them in her devilish schemes too?

And now he hurt with an all encompassing pain that threatened to consume him again. As always he kept it hidden inside, only showing a taut blank face to the world. He couldn’t be around people, it was clear to him now. Emerging feelings towards Mary could not be entertained, she deserved better.

And what did he deserve? Divine retribution? Revenge? He didn’t know any more. He’d told Mary once that he was the ‘bad element’, but at this precise moment he was incapable of anything worth a damn.

Slowly, his wound healed enough for him to stay in his room in town and he didn’t object to Nathan’s supervision. He just didn’t care. He wondered why they did.

Vin was gone for a while and he guessed he deserved that. Buck hovered in the background, a familiar presence that he tolerated with a rough affection.

Josiah tried to help but the words held no meaning, he couldn’t grasp them. Ezra had looked coolly at him and clearly found him wanting. JD didn’t know how to approach him or what to say. And all of them kept a wary distance, watching and waiting.

Chris wondered what they were waiting for. Was he supposed to do or say something? Not that he’d said much of anything since waking properly in Nathan’s clinic several weeks back. The look on Mary’s face and in her eyes as he opened That Letter (for that was how he thought of it) and the photo fell out. Then Vin had told him Ella had leached into the landscape. He had no leads to pursue. Those two things had stolen the words and any sense of feeling right out of him and he had no clue how to get any of it back.

He was so numb and frozen inside that he didn’t trust to what he might say or do if he got wild drunk. And as he reckoned he’d fairly pissed off all he might count as friends, he didn’t want to give them any more ammunition to run him out of town or just shoot him for being stupid. Drink made words tumble out unguarded so for once he hadn’t gone straight into the bottom of the whisky bottles. In this he realised he had surprised his friends and he had revelled briefly in his unpredictability.

Nathan passed him fit to ride (but with care) and he wondered where he should go. Why? What was the point? He stayed, for want of being unable to make a coherent decision either way. There had been a time when he had all the answers and he just went and did things, as easy and cool as you like. Now? He couldn’t be bothered and he wondered why this didn’t seem to worry him.

Vin came back.

Chris assured him he was okay. Okay with what Vin had told him the night of the party. Okay with him missing that shot. Okay with not finding Ella.

Just...okay.

Ella defied any and every rule known to man, so no wonder she’d slipped through everything Vin had tried. It was how things were going to be from now on. Chris understood that now, he did not understand why Vin didn’t get it yet. After all, how could he be hard on Vin when he hadn’t shot Ella either?

Chris sat and watched and waited, for what he did not know, he just hoped that it would be obvious- because he was having a hard time tracking things just now. Whole days passed without him doing anything, only to have someone dragging him off for food or leaving it close by to punctuate the time for him.

Vin and Buck spoke a lot and disappeared into the saloon. Chris realised something was afoot as they sought counsel with Josiah. He was mildly curious. Clearly they wanted to save him and he wondered what form it would take and if he’d recognise it when it happened.

 

“It’s a great idea Vin. Dammit, I only wish I’d thought of it myself years ago! Chris certainly never thought of it. It might have helped…maybe he wouldn’t have gone completely loco…I don’t know,” Buck wondered aloud.

“Maybe it would, but we’ll never know. Chris is who he is now ‘cause of what he went through.” Josiah suggested.

“All I’m saying is I don’t know if now is the right time for this.”

“Why not now?”

“’Cause in case you hadn’t noticed Vin, he ain’t exactly reacting to anything.”

“All the more reason fer this’n to work.” Vin protested.

“Work? Hell and damnation- sorry Josiah-! Shock him right to the bottom of six bottles of Red Eye more like!”

“At least it would be normal for Chris. That ain’t Chris out there!”

“And * you* know him so well!”

“Bucklin’ it ain’t like that an’ you know it! I know what I seen that man do over the last coupla years or so and I know what I been seein’ the last few weeks. They ain’t the same.”

“Vin’s right. Chris is in shock.”

“Preacher, we’ve all had- excuse me- a hell of a shock!”

“That’s true enough. But we watched from the outside. This happened to Brother Chris up close and personal. How do we know how he really feels, how he’s trying to deal with all of this?”

“Hell, you know Chris- he don’t say much about anything. But he’s been through some of this before…” argued Buck.

“No. Not quite like this. No drinking and cussin’ and fighting...”

“He’s too quiet. Like he’s afraid to let go or feel anything. He made a really poor decision and bad things happened. Now it’s like he don’t dare make up his mind to do anything in case it’s wrong or someone gets hurt or killed.”

“Exactly my point. Too many things one after the other with no chance to separate them out and deal with them one by one. The anniversary of the loss of his family, Ella turning up and reeling all of us into her scheme. Chris taking a wild chance at a perfect life she created. Discovering that room and realising the truth about Ella. Not to mention nearly being killed. And after all that -she’s still out there.” Josiah listed the events so Buck could see the cumulative effect.

“Don’t forget the damn letter…” Vin added.

“Right. Wouldn’t you go a little bit crazy or maybe not know what to do?”

“You know what it says? The letter?” Vin asked hopefully.

“No, but it can’t be good, ‘cause that’s when he shut down on us all. Damn it, I know the man’s mean and moody but this beats all. I think ….I think he’s …depressed…” Buck came to a sad conclusion.

“The straw that broke the camels’ back...” intoned Josiah.

“So how do we get ‘im back?”

“Providing he wants to come back.”

“I think he does, he just don’t know it yet and can’t figure out how to anyways. That’s why we gotta do somethin’ drastic.” Vin argued his case again

“Yeah. But this …I don’t know. It’s either very brave or very stupid.” Buck said thoughtfully.

“So..?”

“We have everything to gain and so does Chris…” Josiah offered.

“Also got everything to lose…” muttered Buck, knowing the angry, bitter part of Chris’s persona.

“Buck, I don’t aim on losin’ ‘im, promise ya that!” Vin growled.

“How do we do this? Just hand them to him? I mean, it’s personal. He might explode and go crazy on us. We can’t do this in town.”

“So we get him to his cabin.”

“And then what? Watch him fall apart? I don’t know if I can do that again. Once was bad enough.” Buck said with feeling.

“I can, as an outsider.”

“You’re his best friend Vin! Not an outsider.”

“I ain’t part of his life ‘fore his family…”

“Okay then….”

 

Vin left the church with more of a plan in mind than they’d started with half an hour ago. He set off on his rounds, glad of the chance to think it through a bit before they put the plan into action. Chris had disappeared to his room so quietly after evening meal that it had taken a moment for them to notice the fact. And Larabee was a man you noticed. He usually dominated the room with his commanding presence. That had been lacking for several weeks now.

Chris had said he was okay with everything. Well, actually Vin had spoken and Chris had sort of made noises at the right places and said “We’re okay.” at the end of it all. And Vin couldn’t get a reading off him at all; he’d raised his barriers up high and a mile wide. Vin realised he missed his friend, the easy way they had of understanding one another. And this brooding hurt silence of Chris’s wasn’t like his usual quiet self either.

Vin had been torn when Chris cut him off at the party, refusing to listen and believe what he had to say. He couldn’t believe how quickly Ella had turned Chris round into the fancy clothes he was wearing. It wasn’t Chris at all. Vin had ridden out in a snit and had to come back to warn the guys. He was glad he had done so, otherwise none of them would have survived Ella’s evil plan.

And up until he got curious or just plain suspicious about Ella and her business dealings, he had watched Chris with Ella. It was a Chris he didn’t know any more. It was like he was bewitched, under some spell.

Vin had seen the remains of the old Larabee homestead and knew that Chris and Buck had bought and traded horses back in that other life. So when they had looked down on the home Ella Gaines had made, it was a paradise created especially for Chris alone, even down to the corral and horses, he saw that now

That was another thing. The horses.

He had seen Chris walk fearlessly into the street to face two-bit would be gunslingers trying to make their name by shooting him down. 

He’d seen him roll in front of the stage-coach’s wheels to rescue Billy. 

He’d seen that cocky smile and glint in his eye when he came up with a devilish plan and told them what they were gonna do.

But he’d never seen him ride the horses like he did that day at Ella’s. 

This was a Chris he’d not met before. He seemed more animated and alive, if that was possible. And he was good, damned good at what he did. That should not have surprised him at all. Larabee had been blessed with gifts. Taming wild horses couldn’t really be learnt, you could either do it or you couldn’t. It was what he should have been doing instead of being a mean ornery gunslinger. Gunplay was part learned and part reflex, but better if you were just plain good at it without trying. Reading people was another…apart from Ella that was.

Vin didn’t know what to think. Ella had offered his grieving friend a new life and Chris was so bewitched that he leapt at it. It was the only reason that Vin could come up with for Chris to turn around after a week and say he was going to marry the woman and stay there, not coming back to the town they protected. Vin hated Ella for making Chris smile and be happy for a brief time, when she was plotting to get rid of them all and keep Chris for herself.

He didn’t know how Chris had found the room Ella had hidden her ‘treasures’ in, only that he’d suddenly appeared bare-chested, boiling mad and ready to shoot her dead in the middle of the gun battle. Chris wasn’t smiling any more- the terrible haunted look was back in his eyes.

Vin could not believe it when Chris was flung to the ground by Jack Averil’s bullet. And then he’d missed Ella- him- the sharpshooter, the sniper, the best this side of Texas …and he’d god damned missed. 

How could Chris be okay with that? He wasn’t.

Chris had bled a lot writhing around, trying to get up and go after Ella. Desperately Vin had pushed him back to the ground, his hand over the pulsing wound, calling desperately for Nathan. Nathan and Buck arrived after a pause and between them they brought Chris inside the house once it was safe. The others rallied round clearing the yard and searching for Ella and any of her men who had escaped with her

Chris had fought surprisingly hard against them, given his wound, not wanting to be in the house for some reason. They soon found out why when Buck went looking for a spare room to take him to and returned looking upset and grim. That’s when Vin heard about Ella’s ‘treasure’ room. Through that day and the next Larabee clung to that fragile thing called hope as desperately as he clung to life. But Vin had not been able to give him the answer he wanted- Ella dead or some sort of trail to follow. Not then and not after a week’s worth of searching later.

So, slowly and carefully they brought Chris back home to recover fully. Whatever that meant. And Chris did not talk about what his plans were. He rested and waited.

And then The Letter arrived when Chris was just able to sit outside for a spell. Chris had looked like a good puff of wind would blow him over, but he wanted out of Nathan’s so bad.

Whatever the witch had written, it had turned Chris in on himself. He barely spoke, he ate when prompted- no more no less. He did not read his books he just sat and watched townsfolk from a chair on the porch and recovered like Nathan told him to. He had no opinions and drifted. Sometimes he just lay on his bed all afternoon. Not sleeping- just watching the walls. Vin knew this because he’d seen it with his own eyes. And this empty hollow ‘not-Chris’ was painful to watch.

And then Vin got an idea, born out of quiet talks with Buck who’d seen Ella’s trophy room first and it had got him remembering about good times with Sarah and Adam. Once again, Buck – the keeper of all things Larabee -had retrieved the few items he could from that room wondering what to do with them. Whether he should give them to Chris at all or get rid of them.

.

Nathan approached Chris on his way to the bath house the next morning, and suggested going riding would be decent exercise and that checking his cabin might be a good idea while he was at it. Chris took this as a sign they were all tired of him and that he was safe to be let alone. Nathan said he’d order his breakfast for him while he washed. He shrugged his shoulders in agreement. Now all he had to decide was when to go. Did it matter? He supposed he should eat first or maybe get some coffee. Undecided he stood in the street and watched as Vin went to the store. Vin emerged with a small sack of provisions and left them in the livery. Vin went to the saloon.

Chris changed his mind about the bath. He would go now, right this minute. He loaded up and rode out. Everyone seemed busy, they wouldn’t notice he was gone. Pony seemed glad of the exercise even if Chris rode oblivious.

At his small homestead he unsaddled and rubbed Pony down and watched him kick about in the corral. At least someone was happy. Entering his cabin he sat down and unpacked the foodstuff. Now what? He sighed and stood up to put the goods onto shelves. His hands stopped still at a package reading “Larabee, c/o Tanner.”

 

“What d’ya mean he never had his bath or breakfast!”

“I assumed he’d be in later or gone back to his room. Maybe we missed him.”

“Damn mule-headed…” Vin sighed “Never assume anything with Chris!”

“Sorry!”

“He rode out an hour ago? Dammit he wasn’t supposed to go yet. He took the stuff I set out in the livery? Hell, I’ll have to ride out there…stupid, shit fer brains, good fer nothin’ cowboy...” fumed Vin as he rushed out heading for the livery and into the sudden summer storm. This was a twist to the plan he hadn’t foreseen. Buck offered to stop by in a little while…

 

Chris opened the package; his eyes fell on the contents. He blinked. Looked away and then back again. Just to be sure. He struggled with what he was seeing. Suddenly he was bent over, gasping for air, a vicious pain in his chest. There was no air, he could not breathe, could not speak.

Somehow he stumbled to the cabin porch - the action provoked fast shuddering breaths at last. He paced and clenched and unclenched his hands in agitation. He did not notice the gathering storm and rumble of thunder that made Pony snort anxiously in the corral.

He went inside and looked again. At first he’d thought they were the ruined images from her room, but they weren’t. He didn’t deserve them back again he chanted to himself. Not after all he’d done. But, oh how he wanted what lay in the carefully wrapped package. He turned around and fell to his knees in the yard. From deep within him an agonised groan escaped.

It wasn’t enough.

Nothing was ever going to be enough.

The groan became a growl and then a long loud scream into the heavy falling rain. The scream dissolved slowly into wretched sobs as he pounded the wet earth and rocked slowly back and forth.

Not such a bad element now, he thought, if anyone was watching. Why was he crying now after all this time? He hadn’t really let go since…since he’d tenderly placed them in the ground and covered them up with Buck in the background as he steadily silently carved the names for the crosses.

Passion spent, anger surfaced and he stood up and beat his fists against the side of the house. The bitch had taken his life and tried to make it hers and ruined his memories of his wife and child. She’d scratched them out of the paper and photo frames, leaving him free. For good measure he stomped around booting anything lose in the yard. He felt a tiny bit better.

Pony wanted out of the rain and thunder and lightening. Chris saw him and wrenched the gate open to go in and deal with him. But Pony sensed his wild mood and danced away from him. Chris cursed and shouted at him. Pony shied up and Chris got out of the way and let him go. He was mud caked and drenched and it was more than he had felt in weeks. Pony’d come back- he always did.

Wet cold and tired, his healing wound pulling a bit after dodging Pony, and all his other exertions Chris wearily slogged back to his cabin. He sat on a chair dripping onto the floor, staring at what Vin had found and given back to him. He shivered and realised he couldn’t touch his treasures while he was wet and muddy. He stripped off, towelled dry and put a clean pair of pants and socks on and hung the wet clothes to dry over a chair near the fireplace. He made up the fire and put coffee on. He was oblivious to the storm outside- he was dealing with his own storm inside the cabin.

Chris gently touched their faces once again and sat and looked and remembered, silent tears running down his face. Until at last he stumbled to bed exhausted. Not drunk on whisky but drunk on memories and what might be. He fell asleep listening to the rain fall onto the soil, whispering in the dark.

 

Vin came across a wet and unsaddled Pony about a mile from Chris’s place and gathered him in. At least the storm had passed now. As he came to the little cabin, he noted the slightly trashed look of the place, but saw there was smoke from the chimney. It gave him hope that Chris was inside and not run off into the wild -gone crazy or bust and broken somewhere. He sorted the horses out and approached the cabin.

“Chris? Vin comin’ in.”

No reply, but he carried on anyway.

The fire was almost gone so he gave it a prod and added another log. The storm was chilly and it was still dark grey out even though it was not noon yet. He approached the bed. Chris lay bare chested on his side and Vin could clearly see the healing wound uppermost. Vin’s gut clenched as he remembered Chris going down in Ella’s yard. Chris had fought hard to recover from it along with everything else that had happened at Ella’s ranch.

Firelight glinted off shiny surfaces. The three photographs he’d managed to get copies of in Eagle Bend were propped up on a chair next to the bed. A younger happier Chris with his wife, one of his son on a horse and one of all three of them. Vin could see that Chris had accepted the gift and had not fallen apart completely. Something had obviously happened, but there seemed to be no bones broken and the Red Eye on the mantle piece was unopened.

The last gift was clutched firmly in Chris’s right hand, only the chain visible. It was the mended locket, only now it had Sarah’s image back where it should be. Chris was properly asleep at last and Vin could not begrudge him the tear tracks.

 

Chris woke, groggy and spent, to the smell of coffee and bacon.

“Vin?” he croaked.

“Yep. Coffee comin’ up.”

He sat up confused for a second, his side ached. Why was he at the cabin? Why was Vin here? Vin….package. Reality crashed down on him. Feverishly he glanced to the bed and chair- the photos of his loved ones were still there. It wasn’t a dream, not an illusion he’d created in his madness. The locket was still in his hand, he put the chain over his head.

“How did you…? Where did…?” he tried asking Vin and then settled for “Why?”

“I saw what Ella had in that room, Chris. What you had, that she wanted. She ruined every image and idea you had of them. And I realised that you couldn’t have saved anything from the fire. I got to pondering…” Vin paused, looking at Chris who nodded for him to continue.

“I got to wondering if maybe there weren’t some copies or originals with the photographer in the next town to where you lived. I hope you didn’t mind. I asked Buck and he helped. But we weren’t sure and we didn’t dare hope. No one else has seen them but you, pard. Not even Buck. And Buck don’t know I got some fer him, seein’ as he was family too. Hope that’s alright.”

“Thanks,” said Chris slowly. “There should be more than just ‘thanks’, but I don’t know what else to say. I don’t deserve it.”

“You do deserve it. Why not? We’re none of us angels. Good things do happen now and then, cowboy. Guess this is from all of us- welcome back. I missed ya.”

“I didn’t go anywhere.”

Vin laughed “Sure ya did. Your body was here dragging itself all around town but the rest of you wasn’t. As Josiah would say- you needed saving.”

“From what?” Chris asked curious.

“Yourself. I never meant for you to be alone with those. I wanted to explain first. But I guess it’s okay. Am I right?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“I see that….”

They both looked up at the sound of a horse approaching.

“Buck," said Chris sniffing and wiping his face with a hand.

Once upon a time he had been mad every morning that the sun rose on a new day and that the world carried on as if nothing had happened. Buck had got him out of that eventually.

Finally he knew it was time to talk to both Buck and Vin about Sarah and Adam without dying inside. And Ella and That Letter. They needed to know that she still had plans. And if he needed to talk then he guessed that they had something to say to him as well. He would need to make some peace in town as well he guessed

Life had meaning once more. A small piece of heaven had been restored. He had duties in town. One day he or all seven of them would sort Ella out once and for all. A simmering glow of anger reserved solely for her was kept banked inside him ready for that moment. Sometime soon he hoped to sort out Tanner’s Tascosa problem too and then all really would be right with the world

Chris got up, rummaged into the chest at the end of his bed and went out to greet his old friend and invite him for coffee. He was oblivious to the startled looks on Buck and Vin’s faces as he shrugged into a white shirt, the locket swinging gently against his chest. He liked the feel of it next to his heart and he vowed never to lose it again

END


End file.
